


Breaking Point

by WickedBookLoveroftheWest



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M, M/M, mentions of past suicide attempts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-12 02:38:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18437297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedBookLoveroftheWest/pseuds/WickedBookLoveroftheWest
Summary: Every person has a breaking point. Alex Manes has reached his.





	1. Chapter 1

Alex Manes is accustomed to the really bad days. He’s been officially diagnosed with PTSD for nearly two years now but he suspects he’s probably had it for much longer. After all, he’d survived his mother leaving, his father verbally and physically abusing him, Kyle Valenti and his high school cliché of a jock group bullying him, and watching his father break the hand of the only man he’s ever loved. And all of this, before he actually went to war. So he’s used to having really bad days caused by trauma and he knows the signs they’re coming these days. But that doesn’t make it any easier for him when he has them. With all the revelations from Project Shepard and finding out about Maria and Michael (and Michael trying to leave the planet), he knew a bad day was bound to come. When he woke up one morning, after reliving the memory of the day he lost his leg and half his troop, he knew that day had come. His heart rate was higher than usual, the nightmare still fresh on his mind, and his breathing was irregular. He didn’t want to get out of bed or eat or do anything actually, so he just laid there, thinking. But thinking about all that had happened, the Evans and Michael being aliens, Michael wanting to leave, Michael and Maria, a serial killer alien loose in Roswell, and Michael trying to leave the planet…it made it even harder for him to breath. Instead of thinking, he started to do the breathing exercises his old therapist had taught him and somehow got out of bed. He headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a large gulp. He was halfway done with the bottle when his phone rang. Caller ID had shown it was Maria. A part of him just wanted to let it go to voicemail, but the logical part of him, the part that knew Maria wasn’t trying to hurt him, told him to pick up.

“Hey, Maria.” He answered, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Alex Manes. Have you been ignoring me? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Maria responded.

“No, of course not.” _Yes,_ he thought. “I’ve just been busy.” _Trying to catch a serial killer alien._

“But you’re coming tonight though, right?” Maria asked.

“Tonight?” He racked his brain, trying to remember what the day meant.

“The opening gala of the museum.” Maria said, the “duh” almost apparent.

“No, Maria. I’m not going. I can’t.” _I feel like I’m dying_. Alex took in a deep breath again, trying to regulate his breathing pattern.

“But you love the museum.” Maria protested. “It was the first place you said you ever thought Roswell could be home. ”

“And then everything with Michael Guerin went to shit. Look, Maria, I don’t want to be reminded of the past so I’m not going, okay. Bye.” Alex snapped.

He felt bad for hanging up on her but Maria had been uncharacteristically cruel, almost as if she had been possessed, bringing up Michael when she knew they weren’t in a good place. As he half slammed his phone down on the kitchen table, he saw the date and realized that it had meant something to him. It had been almost a year, to be precise, exactly a week short of a year. He still had things he needed to do. Completely destroy whatever Project Shephard had done and catch the fourth alien. But after that…he didn’t really have any burning desire to do anything. After that, he’d be free to do what he had planned to do a year ago. And he intended on doing so.

 

* * *

 

A little over a week later, Project Shephard had been completely shut down. Noah, the fourth alien, had been brought to justice. Michael and him had ended things, really ended things, this time around. Alex Manes had no more responsibilities and no ties. He thought long and hard about if he really wanted to go through with it. He had successfully run his father out of town, Roswell was safe from a serial killer, Project Shephard was done, Liz was happy with Max…and Maria with Michael. He didn’t have anything tying him to Roswell... or anywhere, really. With his mind made up, he dialed a familiar number.

“It’s been a year. And I still want to do it.” Alex said as soon as the person on the other side of the line picked up the phone.

“Okay. I’ll make the arrangements.” The voice answered.

“Thank you.” Alex answered, a tear rolling down his face.

“I promised you that I would do what you ask me after a year.” The voice replied, then hung up.

 

* * *

 

 

Michael Guerin hardly ever gets surprised easily. But whenever he does, it’s mostly due to Alex Manes. He had thought after their last conversation, when they really ended everything, that that would no longer be the case. He had been dead wrong. Two weeks after Roswell was finally at peace, Michael found a box at the doorsteps of his Airstream, with his name written in a familiar scrawl, reminding him of the days back when he was a teenager, exchanging love notes. He shook his head at the memory, bringing the box inside. Grabbing a pair of scissors, he opened the box to find a huge fragment of what seemed awfully like the spaceship pieces he had in his bunker.

“What the?” He muttered, involuntarily. A piece of paper was folded neatly inside the box.

 

_I found this at the Valenti cabin. I think Kyle’s dad left it for me. Now I’m leaving it for you. All you ever wanted to do was go home, Guerin. And now you can._

_Love, Alex_

Michael busted out of the Airstream, slamming the door shut and locking it with his telekinesis. He saw Maria’s car pulling into the junkyard, but he ignored her calling his name and got into his car, driving much faster than the speed limit to the Valenti’s hunting cabin.

As he pulled into the driveway, Michael saw an unfamiliar car parked, Alex’s car nowhere in sight. Any other day, he might have found it odd but today, he was on a mission to figure out what the hell Alex was thinking leaving him that note and the piece of the spaceship. He pounded on the cabin door, resisting the urge to open the door with his mind.

“Alex! Open up, we need to talk.” He yelled. Just as he was about to unlock the door with his mind, the door opened. He was about to start his rant to Alex when he realized the person who had opened the door was not Alex. Not even close. For starters, it was a she, and not a he. 

“Can I help you?” The woman had asked. She stood there, in a pair of sweats and an Air Force sweatshirt with “Manes” written on it. 

“I need to talk to Alex.” Michael demanded, confused by this woman’s presence but not wanting to be deterred from his objective. 

“He’s not here.” The woman replied, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. 

“When is he coming back?” He asked, gritting his teeth. He wanted to get this over with quick and fast. 

“He’s never coming back here.” A grim look crossed the woman’s face.

“Where is he?” Michael questioned, a new sense of urgency rising. He had thought Project Shephard had been completely destroyed but what if this woman had been involved and taken Alex?

“At 0400 hours today, Sergeant Alex Manes boarded an aircraft owned by the United States Air Force headed to a classified covert military location for his final mission.” She recited, almost as if she had been repeating it over and over. Probably some catchphrase she said to anyone who requested information on any soldier. 

“He was at the near end of his enlistment period and he already lost his damn leg to the goddamn Air Force. You couldn’t find someone else?” He asked, incredulous. He would never understand the damn military and the way they worked. 

“He volunteered. And you know him, he’s stubborn. Whenever he decides something, he’s going to go through with it.” The woman replied. Michael could tell she was near tears but he couldn’t understand why. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” He tried to change tactics, hoping if he asked personal questions, she might slip something up by mistake.

“My name is irrelevant and I’m here to pack up his stuff for him since he’s not ever going to come back to do it himself.” She answered.

“What do you mean he’s not ever coming back here? Like he’s leaving Roswell for good?” He pried. The woman scoffed.

“Yeah, basically. He’s left for good.” Something in the way she said that made Michael stop cold, realizing the implications but not wanting to believe it to be true.

“Where is he going?” He inquired, hoping for a place that wasn’t war-torn or dangerous.

“Classified location.” She responded quickly, as if she was used to the questions asked by millions of others in Michael’s spot.

“How long?" 

“Could be one day, a week, a month, who knows?”

 “When is he coming back?” That question had made the woman grimace.

“He’s never coming back.” Her voice was haunting, her expression completely hardened.

“To Roswell, right? He’s just never coming back to Roswell, right” He pressed, needing to hear that Alex would be out there, somewhere that wasn’t in Roswell, living his life. 

“He’s never coming back.” She repeated and Michael finally understood what she had been saying.

“You sent him off to a motherfucking suicide mission?” He yelled, outraged by the nerve of the woman in front of him to send Alex on a mission to die. He had a rule about not punching girls, but he was seriously about to go back on that rule. This woman had sent Alex on a suicide mission, had sent him off to war with the sole object of dying. This woman was worse than Jesse fucking Manes, and Michael had thought Jesse Manes was the devil reincarnated.

“He asked to.” Her voice was shaky. He couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness. When he saw a tear slip down her face, he knew it was the later. Seeing her crying, Michael felt slightly bad at yelling her but it was her own damn fault for sending him in the first place.

“And you let him? What the fuck were you thinking?” She pointed a finger at him, fury evident in her bloodshot eyes. 

“You think this is easy for me? I was a part of his troop for nearly five years. I was there when he lost his leg and I was the one who was at every single physical therapy session, watching as he killed himself trying to learn how to walk again. I was the one who found him, nearly bleeding out on the hospital bathroom floor with his wrists slashed into a bloody mess and I was the one who found him, overdosed on his pain meds days after his release in the hotel bathroom.” Her voice shook, almost breaking, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

“This was not easy for me, Guerin. But he’s been wanting to go since the day he was cleared for active duty, saying he was completely defective now and that he didn’t want to live like this. The only reason he didn’t is because he promised me he would try living for a year. And he tried. And you know what? He decided it wasn’t worth it.”

Tears spilled from her eyes but the woman made no attempts to wipe them away, instead continuing her speech even though she was sobbing with every word.

“So when he called me last week, I told him I would help him because he kept his promise and he tried for a year and now it was my turn to keep my end of the deal and let him go. So don’t stand there acting like you’re the only one that’s hurting. Because I am too. Probably more so because I cared about him till the end.” She spat out.

“I care!” Michael shouted, trying to focus on his fury and not the breaking of his heart as he listened through all that Alex had suffered after war without him. All the suffering Alex had never even told him. All the pain Michael had been blind to. 

“Evidently not enough for him to live.” Her comment stung badly. 

“He’s not dead yet. His plane left this morning, right? There’s still time to bring him back and…” Michael racked his brain, trying to come up with a plan to get Alex back to safety, to him.

“I am honoring my promise to my friend. I am not going back on it.” She answered, emphasizing the last part. Her tone expressed that she was not going to help him 

“Please…” Michael pleaded, desperate to get Alex back. To be able to tell him that he did care and he wanted to be there for him, now more than ever as he knew what Alex was going through.

“This is how this ends, Michael Guerin. Go home. Live your life. And Alex…he’ll live and end his the way he wants to.” She said and slammed the door shut.

Michael didn’t have the energy to fight her. Instead, he walked back to his truck, kicking the wheel hard, multiple times until his vision went blurry from all the tears. He slumped down, not fighting the tears, letting out a scream in pure agony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this after 1x11 and I was extremely pessimistic about the whole Malex ordeal. This story is kind of my exorcism for my love of Malex so that I'm not let down if things don't go well for them in 1x12.
> 
> To clarify, I don't hate Maria. I love her as a character. The phone call where she was being kind of cruel to Alex was the part when she was being possessed by Noah (assuming Noah was possessing her when she saw Michael at the Crashdown and had been the one to slip the yellow powder). So please don't come after me for that.


	2. Chapter 2

Michael’s favorite way of forgetting is drinking concoctions of alcohol and acetone and getting into fights. To forget all the hell he went through in the foster care system; the abuse, the exorcism, and all the feelings of being unloved and unwanted. To forget how loved he felt by Alex just to have all ripped apart in a matter of seconds by Jesse Manes. To forget that he’s alone in the world with no place and no one to call home now that Alex is gone. Ever since the woman from Alex’s former troop informed him that Alex went on a suicide mission and wasn’t ever coming back, he’d practically lived at the Wild Pony. Drinking there on the days when the pain was unbearable, and he felt like he was going to die. Punching the crap out of people who came there on days when all he could rage and despair at the fact that he hadn’t been able to keep Alex safe. Again. Maria was concerned about him but he couldn’t care less. Maybe in another lifetime, Maria and him could have worked. Maybe in a world where Alex Manes had been straight, and Michael had never felt his love. But that wasn’t the world they lived in. Alex Manes had truly loved him. Michael knew that now. But it was too late. There wasn’t anything left for him to do. He’d tried to find information on Alex’s flight with his minuscule hacking skills but he’d turned up with nothing. He’d begged and pleaded the woman from outside the door to help him but it was useless. She was loyal to Alex and his final wish. He had exhausted every single option and it all turned up empty. All that was left for him was drinking and fighting. The one time Max and Isobel both came over, Michael had been so filled with anger that he ended up blaming them for losing Alex the first time around, back when they were in high school and Alex had asked him to run away with him. He yelled at them, saying that if it hadn’t been for the whole Rosa Ortecho incident and him feeling the need to stay in Roswell for Isobel, he would’ve gone with Alex and Alex might have still been here, in this world, alive and with him. It wasn’t fair to blame them but at the time, Michael needed someone to yell at and blame. Someone he knew would still care after all was said and done. They hadn’t visited since then but left him messages saying to call them if he needed something. He hadn’t. The only thing he needed was booze and blood. That’s why he arrived at the Wild Pony the moment it opened on Thursday night.

“DeLuca, whiskey.”

Maria didn’t respond but she poured whiskey into a glass and handed it to him. Michael nodded in thanks. He poured in some of the acetone from the nail polish remover bottle into his drink.

“Doesn’t anyone ever ask you about that?”

Michael turned around to see Kyle Valenti standing there with a concerned look on his face. Michael turned back to his drink. As much as punching Valenti would be fun, he had done a lot to help Max, Isobel and him…and Alex when he had been in Roswell.

“I’m the town drunk. Everyone just assumes I’m carrying more booze in it.”

“Hmm.” Valenti responded.

Michael felt the seat next to him shuffle and he saw Valenti sitting in the chair.

“Can I help you?” Michael gritted his teeth. All he wanted to do today was get drunk and throw a few punches at the local idiots. Not have a conversation with the locally acclaimed doctor.

“I’m concerned about you. So is Liz. And Max.”

“What, you three having a threesome now?” Michael deflected. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his feelings with Kyle freaking Valenti. The dude had grown up a lot since high school but Michael’s impression of him was still a homophobic bully that hurt Alex. Thinking about Alex pained him, both physically and emotionally, so he took a huge gulp of his drink and indicated to Maria for more. She poured more for him in silence but looked at him with disapproval.

“I’m meeting up with an old friend here. Maybe you’d like to have a drink with us.”

Valenti got up and went to grab a booth.

“Not fucking likely.” Michael muttered into his glass, downing another shot.

A half hour later, Michael was ten shots of whiskey and in the mood to wreak havoc. He got out of his seat, looking to find the best target when he saw Valenti talking to the woman from Alex’s cabin. Confused, drunk and still enraged at the woman, he walked towards their table.

“Guerin. Glad to see you joining…”

“Shut up, Valenti.” Michael interrupted. “What the fuck are you doing here? Does he even know what you did to Alex?” He questioned, the volume of his voice rising with every word.

“He does.” She answered, her tone calm. Any traces of the mourning woman he met at the cabin was gone. She must have gotten over it, unlike Michael who turned to face Valenti.

“You know what she did and you’re still talking to her?” He was practically yelling now, the customers around them looking over with concern. No doubt worried that the town drunk was going to punch the respectable doctor and his date, the equally respectable army woman. The people in town didn’t have a clue just how wrong they were. This woman was far from respectable.

“Look, Guerin. you don’t have all the facts. That’s why I…” Valenti started but Michael interrupted again.

“I don’t have all the facts? I know that this woman is worse than Jesse fucking Manes. Because at least…”

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t insult my best friend and imply that she’s worse than a homophobic, abusive dick of a father.”

An awfully familiar voice said from behind him. Michael froze. He couldn’t turn around to look. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Does nail polish remover expire? They must. He must have gotten an expired batch of acetone and was having an auditory hallucination. Because the voice couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“So are you going to apologize to her?” The voice spoke again. Michael couldn’t respond. The woman and Kyle looked at him with concern in their eyes.

“I’m having a hallucination, right? The voice isn’t real, right?” The woman shook her head, her eyes slightly glassy. Unlike the last time he had seen her cry, she didn’t look heartbroken though. She seemed hopeful. That look of hope had been the reason he turned around.

Alex Manes stood there, alive and well, or as well as he had been when Michael had seen him last. He shuffled slightly from one foot to another as Michael stared at him. It can’t be real. Alex had gone on a suicide mission. Alex was dead. Alex was never coming back to him. And yet, Alex was standing in front of him?

“How? What? When? I don’t understand.” Michael couldn’t form a single question. All the thoughts in his mind jumbled together, creating incomprehensible strings of words. The only thing he did know was that he had no clue what was going on.

“When we landed, we got word that the intel we were provided was wrong. The man who provided us with the information had been turned by enemy agents. We got sent back. A suicide mission squad is valuable and needs to be utilized for maximum efficiency, not on useless intel.”

Alex rubbed his neck with one hand, the other in his pocket. One of Alex’s nervous ticks.

“I came back to Roswell two days later. Talked with Alissa.” He nodded towards the table, to the woman sitting next to Valenti. “She told me you came by the cabin. I needed to get help and Alissa knew it. She’s known all along. But this time, I listened.” Alex gave him a slight smile. “I had a reason to listen.”

Alex took a deep breath, hesitating for a few seconds before he spoke again.

“Those with PTSD have a higher likelihood of depression. It’s a common disorder?” Alex looked at Alissa.

“Comorbid disorder.” She responded.

“Right, a comorbid disorder. I started seeing a therapist again. She’s been helping me with all my issues and helping me get over my fears.”

Alex stopped talking for a minute. Michael saw a faint trace of hesitation in Alex’s eyes before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I might always have depression and I might always have PTSD. But I don’t want to be afraid anymore. To say what I want to say. To say how I feel. I don’t want to be afraid for repercussions that might not even happen to actions I end up never taking. Alissa and my therapist made me realize that I’d rather live with my mistakes than to die, regretting all the paths I didn’t take.”

Alex took a step toward Michael.

“So this is me, saying I love you. And I want to give us a try. A real try this time. If you want. I promise this time I won’t let what anyone else says get into my head. This time, it’ll be about you and me and no one else.”

Michael didn’t respond. He just looked at Alex, unable to say anything. Was this even possible? The world couldn’t be this kind to him. It never had been. How could he believe this is real?

“What’s the answer Guerin?”

He looked up to see Maria DeLuca standing on top of her bar counter watching Alex and him. He turned his gaze back to Alex. Alex who was standing there, his eyes looking so much brighter than he’d seen in years. Alex who had let his walls down and laid his emotions bare to him, in public. Alex who Michael had been in love with since he was eighteen. And Alex who Michael had almost lost and was being given a second chance to be with.

“Yes.” He whispered, tears streaming down his face. Alex and Michael walked toward each other, ten years of hurt and pain fading as they kissed each other softly.

The future was unclear. Alex had a lot of damage he had to deal with and so did Michael, to be honest. But standing there, in the Wild Pony, with Alex in his arms, Michael was sure that whatever happened, Alex would be a part of his future. No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I watched 1x12 and I was a wreck. But a good wreck. That "you're my family" line from Alex was so good. It made me really hopeful for what might come next for Malex. And so out of that hopefulness, this chapter came to be. I hope you guys like it, even though it wasn't Michael saving Alex. But I wanted it to be Alex who saves himself. A lot of times, I think we tend to believe that there's this one person who can save us from whatever it is that we're going through but speaking from experience and from some education as a psych major, that's not really the case. We have to save ourselves. We can get help and support from others but at the end of the day, we have to be the ones who decide to get the help and to get the support. So Michael, and Kyle, and Alissa all helped Alex get the help he needed. But in the end, Alex chose to get help and to save himself. For me, that was important so I wrote this chapter like that. Sorry to disappoint those who wanted to see Michael kick ass to save Alex. Maybe in another story


	3. Chapter 3

Kyle Valenti doesn’t know Alex Manes well. At least, not anymore. Maybe he used to, once upon a time, when they were kids, before he turned into a dick, but he doesn’t anymore. Yet  he wants to. He wants to be friends with Alex again and he’s willing to take the time and the effort to prove it to him. That’s why, on his rare day off, he drove about an hour out of town to get to his dad’s old hunting cabin with a six-pack and a pack of cigarettes. Kyle himself never saw the appeal of smoking but he caught Alex once with a cigarette after a particular stressful day back when Alex and him were working together to figure out who the fourth alien was and how to permanently end Project Shepard. Considering the month they had, with all they had been through, he figured Alex could use a pack. When he arrived at the cabin, he saw an unfamiliar vehicle parked, with Alex’s truck nowhere in sight. He grabbed the six pack from the backseat and put the cigarettes in his pocket, went up the stairs and knocked, unlike his first visit.

The door swung open.

“Look, Guerin, I told you repeatedly I am not helping you. Don’t make me call the cops on you.” A woman, a few years younger than him, stared at him as she came to the realization that he was not, in fact, Michael Guerin.

“Sorry. I thought you were someone else.” She looked down as she spoke, her cheeks slightly red.

“Yeah. Sorry to disappoint. Although I am better looking than Guerin.” He replied, joking in his own cocky way. He may not be a self-centered, egotistic jerk but he still was a little overtly confident sometimes.

“Debatable.” Despite her reply, the woman had a small smile on her face. As Kyle took her in, he saw that she was wearing Alex’s old sweatshirt and probably sweatpants considering how big it was on her. Her eyes were bloodshot red and her face extremely pale.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concerned about her paleness. It wasn’t natural. It was the kind of paleness some of his patients became before fainting.

“I’ll survive.” She replied, not really answering his question.

“Sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Kyle. Kyle Valenti. I’m a friend of Alex’s.” He put his right hand out and the woman shook his hand.

“Alissa Seito. I was in the same troop as Alex for two tours.”

“Speaking of Alex, where is he? I brought a six pack so we could hang out.”

A grim look crossed Alissa’s face as he mentioned Alex and a queasy feeling settled into Kyle’s stomach. Something had happened to Alex. He could feel it.

“He’s on a mission. He left yesterday morning at 0400 hours.” The reply was instantaneous but Alissa has a dazed look in her eyes. She must have repeated that phrase over and over till the point the response became automatic.

“For what?” Kyle asked.

“Classified.”

“Okay. Well in that case, do you want to share this six pack with me? Also do you smoke?” Kyle brought out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered them. Alissa nodded, grabbing a jacket from the coat rack on the wall and closed the door behind her. They sat on the porch, drinking and, in Alissa’s case, smoking in silence. A little while later, Kyle felt movement from besides him, and he turned to look at Alissa, who had tears streaming down her face as she silently sobbed.

“You’re not okay, are you?” It was technically a question but it came out more as a statement. Kyle knew she wasn’t okay and he had a feeling that neither was Alex.

“No but I can’t tell you why.” Kyle watched as Alissa threw her cigarette bud to the floor, grabbing his beer and chugging it down.

“That’s alright. You don’t have to tell me.”

Kyle had a feeling he knew what was happening. Alex had sent him a text two days ago asking him if he would be free today and if he was, could Kyle come over at night to hang out. At the time, Kyle had thought that Alex was lonely, considering what had happened between Guerin and him. However, if Alex left this morning for a mission, he must have known he was going on long before two days ago. That meant Alex had wanted Kyle here for Alissa because Alex knew she would be heartbroken. And if that was Alex’s wish, he would fulfill it as his way to try to make it up to Alex for all the shit he had done.  

Kyle and Alissa sat there out on the porch until the sunset. At some point Alissa curled up to Kyle’s side and he had started stroking her hair. When the sun went down, Kyle was about to suggest they go inside when he realized that Alissa had fallen asleep. He smiled sadly at the woman. It was the first time all day that he had seen her so peaceful and he didn’t want to take it away from her. He carried her into Alex’s bed and he realized that all of Alex’s stuff had been packed into a box. Kyle went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water to put beside the bed for Alissa when she woke up when he saw a letter on the table. Curious, Kyle grabbed the letter and started to read. He couldn’t believe what he had read.

Kyle slumped down onto the couch, realizing that his old friend was gone. There were no tears, the shock too big at the moment. He couldn’t believe Alex was dead, really dead. He had suspected since he saw Alissa’s bloodshot eyes but now he was sure. His mind raced at a thousand miles an hour as he tried to recall all of his last memories of Alex, trying to see if there had been a sign of what Alex had planned to do. Kyle couldn’t remember seeing a single sign and he wondered if Alex was good at hiding his thoughts and emotions of if Kyle was just a shit friend. Probably the later, considering all that he had done. How could he not have realized what Alex was trying to do? They had spent so many hours together. When had he planned this? Was it during one of the moments when Alex had gone outside to smoke? How close had Kyle been when Alex decided to do this? Could he have stopped Alex from going on a suicide mission?

Kyle had been so lost in his thought that he hadn’t realized that someone was trying to break in until the person practically had the door open. Kyle grabbed the nearest weapon he could find, which was a fireplace poker, and headed toward the door. As soon as the door opened, Kyle swung the poker and the intruder ducked, grabbing Kyle’s wrist, and flipped him over. As Kyle groaned, he looked at the intruder’s face.

“Alex?” He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Kyle? What the hell are you doing here man?” Alex helped Kyle get up from the floor and Kyle stared at him with a look of disbelief.

“I thought…What the…You’re alive?” Kyle asked the single most important, but also the dumbest, question, seeing as Alex was, in fact, in front of him.

“Lissa told you?” Alex questioned.

“No, Lissa did not tell him.” A voice answered from behind Kyle. He turned around to see Alissa leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She looked so close to tears and looked sicklier pale than she had before. Kyle slowly walked toward her. The closer he got, the more he realized that Alissa’s breathing was irregular, breathing in and out way too fast. _Panic attack_ , he thought.

“Hey, Alissa. Look at me.” Kyle grabbed Alissa’s hand and put it on his chest. “Breathe with me. In and out.” As Alissa started to calm down, Kyle turned to look at Alex who had stood back. He must have understood he was the cause of Alissa’s panic attack.

“I’m sorry, Lissa. I’m sorry for putting you through this.” Alex whispered, a tear rolling down his face.

“You own me an explanation but first give me a fucking hug.” Alissa said. Alex crouched down at a very slow pace and hugged Alissa. Kyle stepped back, letting them have their moment.

Alex let go of Alissa and sat down on the floor next to Alissa. Kyle took a seat across from them.

“I didn’t want to die. I realized that on the plane. I just didn’t want to be here anymore. I needed something to change but I couldn’t change it and I just didn’t want to be here. But I didn’t want to die.” It was the first time Kyle ever saw Alex cry. For all that Alex had been through, with his father, with Kyle’s horrible bullying in high school, with his mother leaving, Kyle never saw Alex shed a tear once. But now, Alex was fully crying, and Kyle realized that his own face was wet with his tears.

“I want to get help. I want to get better. Will you help me? Please.” Alex asked. Alissa’s response was her hugging Alex tightly.

“Michael Guerin came over.” Alissa said as she let Alex go. “He was mad at first. But then really, really heartbroken.” Alex stayed silent.

“I think he loves you. Present tense.” Alissa whispered, and Alex jerked away. Kyle scooted closer to Alissa. He didn’t think Alex would hurt her, but Alex wasn’t in the most stable condition right now.

“Don’t.” Alex demanded.

“Okay. For now.”

Kyle could tell Alex had a long road to go down. But he was willing to get help this time around, unlike the last time it seemed, and he had Kyle and Alissa, and possibly Michael Guerin by his side. He would be okay, Kyle thought. They all would be, he thought, looking at Alissa and Alex holding onto each other.

 

* * *

 

Two months later, Kyle walked into the Wild Pony for the first time in a while. Alissa was supposed to be meeting him here, and possibly Alex, if he managed to work up the nerve to finally talk to Guerin. As Kyle looked for a good table to sit at, he saw Guerin sitting alone at the counter, taking out a bottle of acetone from his jacket in plain sight. Kyle frowned. Wasn’t that awfully ostentatious? He walked over to Guerin.

“Doesn’t anyone ever ask you about that?” He asked as he approached Guerin.

“I’m the town drunk. Everyone just assumes I’m carrying more booze in it.” Was Guerin’s reply.

“Hmm.”

Kyle made small talk with Guerin, inviting him to come sit with Alissa and maybe even Alex if he decided to show up. Alissa walked in ten minutes after he grabbed a booth.

“Hey.” She said, as she slid in to sit next to him. Kyle moved slightly to make more space for her.

“Hey. Is Alex coming? Because Michael’s here.”

“I think so. He sounded like he was ready to go through with the plan when I called him. He should be here soon.” Her phone buzzed almost as soon as she was done with her sentence and she smirked as she read the message she received. She showed it to him.

 _I’ll be there in five._ It was a text from Alex. 

“This is really happening.”

“Yeah. Think it’s going to go well?” Alissa asked. She looked hopeful but a little worried, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I think it will.” He answered, kissing her to reassure her. She smiled into the kiss, and Kyle could feel her anxiety melt away a little.

“So how was work today?” Alissa had started working at Roswell’s military base as a psychologist after Alex had come back. To stay close to her family, she had said.

Just as she was about to answer, Kyle saw Guerin approaching their table.

“Guerin.” He said. “Glad to see you joining…”

“Shut up, Valenti.” Guerin had interrupted. Kyle could tell from the look on Guerin’s face that he was angry and looking for trouble.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Does he know what you did to Alex?” Guerin’s voice rose with every word. Kyle pushed Alissa slightly behind him, trying to shield her away from Guerin. Guerin was generally a good person, but he was drunk and angry and hurt. Kyle didn’t know what he would do. Not that Alissa, who was ex-military, needed his protection.

“He does.” Alissa replied calmly, not even shaking. 

“You know what she did and you’re still talking to her?” Guerin accused, practically yelling. A lot of the other customers were starting to stare at them, no doubt wondering what was going on between the three.

“Look, Guerin. you don’t have all the facts.” He said, trying to diffuse the situation. “That’s why I…”

 “I don’t have all the facts?” He was interrupted yet again by Michael Guerin. “I know that this woman is worse than Jesse fucking Manes. Because at least…”

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t insult my best friend and imply that she’s worse than a homophobic, abusive dick of a father.” Kyle saw Alex standing behind Guerin, keeping his distance. Kyle smiled slightly. _Nice timing, Alex._

Kyle watched as Guerin froze, so many emotions were reflected in his eyes. Alissa wrapped her arms around his waist as she too watched what was no doubt going to be an epic reunion. Kyle put his arm around Alissa’s shoulder as he watched his best friend reunite with the man he loves. Things would go well for Alex and Guerin this time. He would make sure of it. He looked at the woman in his arms and knew that Alissa too would make sure of it too. As he watched Alex and Guerin kiss each other, Kyle kissed Alissa’s forehead, making a silent vow to himself. To protect this makeshift family of his and to make sure everyone ended up happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this story anymore? I don't even know. I just kind of fell in love with Kyle during 1x12 and I wanted to write his POV for this story. Sorry if it's redundant and annoying. It's just kind of my way of letting my feelings out.


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